


this word is far too short for us

by cynical_optimist



Category: Call Me Katie (Webseries)
Genre: 5 + 1, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, M/M, composed entirely of headcanons, gleeson's ex is named jake apparently, i blame sarah, i sort of play with canon a little whoops, peter glover is a mother hen i will fight you on this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:47:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynical_optimist/pseuds/cynical_optimist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or</p><p> </p><p>five times george squared are not together (and one time they are)</p>
            </blockquote>





	this word is far too short for us

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly a culmination of angsty headcanons and too much caffeine. Enjoy! x
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Margaret Atwood's "Variations On The Word Love".

 

i.

 

“So,” Gleeson’s mum starts over dinner one night. “Your friend George is quite the charmer.”

 

Gleeson blushes, hating how clearly is embarrassment shows, and shakes his head. “It’s not like that,” he protests once he finishes his mouthful. “We’re friends.” He doesn’t like Bates. Besides, he’s only thirteen-- he doesn’t need to worry about potential relationships on top of school and paralympic training.

 

His mum’s eyebrows shoot up. “I never said anything about you two being together. I just mentioned that your friend has me and every other adult wrapped around his little finger. But if there’s something you wanted to tell me…”

 

“No!” Gleeson blushes even darker if possible, and his mum chuckles.

 

“Do I need to give you the talk?” she teases.

 

The front door opens before Gleeson can respond, announcing the arrival of the third member of the family. He trudges into the dining room, taking a moment to kiss his wife and rub his son’s hair. Gleeson’s mother’s mouth tightens noticeably.

 

“Long day at work?” she asks, tense. Gleeson starts gathering his plate and cutlery, having seen enough fights to know when to leave. This one starts almost exactly like every other one this week.

 

Later, when he confides in Bates the nature of his parent’s relationship, his best friend is more than supportive.

 

“You can stay at my house if it gets too bad,” he offers. “My parents will be cool with it-- they love you.”

 

Gleeson can’t quite explain the warmth in his chest at the offer, but he decides he likes it.

 

ii.

 

He’s sitting on Peter’s couch watching a movie, resolutely not thinking about the shouts still ringing on his ears. The fights have been getting steadily worse, and almost every one of them features the word “divorce” at least once. He wonders if they’ll ever actually separate of if they’ll just stay stuck in this limbo of fighting and hating each other and staying together because “George needs _both of us_ in his life, Helen.”

 

“Boyfriend out of town?” Peter asks after a while, tearing him out of his thoughts.

 

“What?” Gleeson asks. He’s pretty sure he’d know if he had a boyfriend.

 

Peter frowns. “Bates,” he explains, as if it should be obvious. “Hey, are you alright? You seem pretty out of it. I think I have some panadol if you have a headache.”

 

“ _What_?” Gleeson asks again, before actually processing Peter’s words. “No--I mean.” He pauses a moment. “Bates and I are not together. He’s straight.”

 

Peter coughs, pausing the movie. “Really?” he asks. “Though… you two are so close and.. god, I owe Katie ten bucks.”

 

“Sorry,” Gleeson mutters automatically.

 

“No, no, it’s fine. But, um, yeah-- is Bates out of town?” He looks concerned.

 

“Oh, no,” Gleeson replies, looking down at his hands. “He doesn’t know my parents are fighting again. I just-- he keeps on talking about Olivia, and I…”

 

“You could just tell him you want him to stop, mate,” Peter suggests, but Gleeson shakes his head.

 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” He’s used the word _fine_ far too many times to be believable, but Peter only nods.

 

“Alright then,” he says. “That’s fair enough, I suppose. You sure you don't need some panadol or anything? You really look like you have a headache."

 

Gleeson shakes his head. He's fine.

 

iii.

 

There’s a cute boy in Gleeson’s maths class.

 

His name is Jake, and he smiles at Gleeson when he answers questions and talks to him about the homework and doesn’t stare at his prosthetics for half their conversations. He laughs at the stupid puns Gleeson gets from Bates, even if he won't make them. He calls him George and tells him what the homework is when he spends all lesson composing symphonies in his head. In short, he is pretty close to perfect.

 

When he asks him out between classes one day, Gleeson can’t help but say yes.

 

They’re sweet together, and Bates tells him that they’re perfect for each other. That makes his stomach twist unpleasantly, but the joy he feels around his new boyfriend masks it. He wonders if it will ever go away or if it will just sit simmering in his chest, hidden beneath layers of “he’s your friend” and “he’s straight” and “you have a boyfriend”.

 

It doesn’t. The relationship ends with a sad smile and a soft kiss on the cheek, a quiet “I can’t compete with him and I don’t want to.” It’s amicable, but his heart aches, and they don’t meet each other’s eyes in maths the next day.

 

Gleeson tells Bates that they broke up but doesn’t tell him why, because Bates can’t stop talking about Bianca’s eyes or hair or how glorious her laugh makes him feel. He’d only feel guilty, anyway, and Gleeson doesn’t want to dampen his newfound joy.

 

iv.

 

They’re sitting in Bates’ room, just browsing on their respective devices, when the shorter boy laughs suddenly. Gleeson looks away from the screen quizzically.

 

“Listen to this,” Bates grins. “It’s a comment on _Revelation_.”

 

“Something positive, right?” Gleeson asks, concerned. People on the internet tend to be more accepting, but there’s always one or two trolls ready to attack someone for expressing themselves.

 

Bates nods. “It says, ‘Yes! My ship takes another step in the right direction.’”

 

"Who are they shipping?"

 

"Us!"

 

“People ship us?” Gleeson asks. “Like, actually ship us?”

 

“I mean, I would ship us,” Bates says, and Gleeson’s heart skips.

 

It doesn’t mean anything, he reminds himself, and laughs as if he had not been affected by that statement at all. It’s not that he doesn’t recognise Bates’ obvious attempts at flirting-- he just doesn’t want to misread the situation. He doesn’t want to end up like his parents, negotiating a divorce; miserable and filled with hatred.

 

“So, are you going to reply?” he asks casually, the successful diversion not helping the irregular beats of his heart.

 

Bates nods, looking downcast. “Um, yeah. Already did. Just said that we’re surprised people want us in a relationship, since we’re friends and all.”

 

Gleeson looks back at his computer, definitely not thinking of what it would be like to date Bates. The friends-to-lovers trope has always been his favourite.

 

“For the record,” he says after a moment of intense inner debate, very carefully not looking up from the screen. “I would ship us, too.”

 

He can practically hear Bates smiling from across the room.

 

v.

 

“I guess it’s like a double date, isn’t it?” Bates says casually as they look for Katie and Peter for the “fake” date.

 

“Um, yeah, I guess,” he says, looking away quickly to hide his obvious smile. It’s not that he doesn’t want this moment with Bates. It just doesn’t feel quite right yet. Besides, he’s not really willing to have their first confession of feelings in the middle of Sydney with Peter and Katie’s incredible tension surrounding them. It’s not their moment, yet, and he won’t intrude on his friends’.

 

Peter gives him a significant look, laden with questions, and Gleeson sighs and shakes his head. Not yet.

 

Soon.

 

_\+ i._

 

His first kiss with Bates is nothing short of legendary.

 

He tastes like chocolate, and his lips are warm and his hands are soft and his hair feels like silk. Gleeson wonders why he’d never noticed that before and laughs at the thought.

 

“What?” Bates asks.

 

“Nothing,” Gleeson answers, and kisses him again. It’s perfect, and he tells Bates so somewhere between the first time their lips touch and their sudden realisation that the camera is still rolling.

 

They laugh and kiss again-- they can edit this out later. They can think about audiences and friends and parents then, too. It is their moment, standing in Bates’ kitchen, cake batter on their lips and ridiculous smiles on their faces. It is their moment, and they are going to enjoy it.

  


_fin._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written at one am please excuse the crappiness
> 
>  
> 
> xx
> 
>  
> 
> (so it turns out writing kisses makes me blush like an idiot whoops)


End file.
